


The Boss of Me

by flightlessxbird



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Kinky, M/M, Master/Slave, Obedience, Orgasm Control, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlessxbird/pseuds/flightlessxbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Svetlana's new boss invites her and Mickey on a company cruise to celebrate their engagement, but it seems the redheaded boss is more interested in getting Mickey alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> I had some horrible writer's block and I find the best way to power through it is to just write even if it's bad and of course porn happened because my mind lives in the gutter. It's bad porn but I have no regrets (almost no regrets anyway) so enjoy I guess?

                Mickey’s life had spun out of fucking control lately. Mickey loved Svetlana. Very much. She was like family, after all. The only problem was that he didn’t love her as a fiancée. She was a cool girl and a great friend but he’d be lying if he said he proposed to her for any other reason than to save his own ass. His dad had found some… Questionable toys in Mickey’s bedroom. Mickey insisted that he used them on Svetlana in bed sometimes, but like the asshole that Terry was he was still suspicious and was about to kick the shit out of Mickey. Intent on not dying, he told his dad that he was going to marry Svetlana. She was only supposed to be his cover girlfriend so that no one would find out he was gay but now she was going to be his fucking _wife_. That’s too permanent for a cover. It didn’t even feel real at first. That is, it didn’t feel real until Svetlana’s new boss had invited them both on the company cruise to celebrate their engagement. Therein lies the only issue with Svetlana’s nice, new receptionist job. The nosy North Side fuckers she works for. He’d heard her bitch about her boss enough times to know that he was nothing but a smug, rich, piece of shit who used to live in the South Side and just got lucky that his company kicked off so well. Mickey hadn’t even met him yet and he hated him.

                But Svetlana said they had to go, which is what led to Mickey sitting in a fancy-ass cruise ship dining hall wearing a suit that was way too warm even in the air-conditioned atmosphere. Thankfully Svetlana was just as uncomfortable, her legs crossed and her hands folded on her knee politely as she looked around at all the employees and bosses. She was new after all, and probably didn’t know anyone else. Which was probably only half the reason that no one was approaching them. Mickey was sure his scowl and knuckle tattoos were a big contribution to their being shunned. At some point Svetlana smacked his arm and told him to “just fucking smile” but Mickey’s scowl only grew meaner. He wasn’t comfortable there at all.

                It didn’t help that someone had been cruising him all night. He wouldn’t have cared much if it were a woman, because after all he was supposed to be playing it straight. But it was obviously a man. A tall, slim, gorgeous-from-afar man in a dark blue suit that hugged his chest in the most appealing way. He’d been casting long glances over at Mickey all night. He seemed far more interested in Mickey than the conversations he was supposed to be a part of. Mickey tried to be reasonable at first. Svetlana was sitting right next to him, the guy could easily have been looking at her. But Mickey knew that look. It was the same look he saw in the smirks of gay kids in juvie when they could tell he was gay too.

                And he was walking right this way.

                “Lana, hi!” He grinned with way too much charm. Svetlana stood up with a polite smile and shook his hand while he kissed her cheek.

                “Hello, Mr. Gallagher.”

                _Oh, **fuck**. _ Mickey swallowed convulsively. Svetlana’s boss.

                “This isn’t the office, please call me Ian.” He smiled again and turned to Mickey.

                “You must be Svetlana’s… Fiancé?” A smirk played on Ian’s lips and he held his hand out for Mickey. “You must be very happy to be getting married. And to such a wonderful woman. She’s the best receptionist I could have asked for.” Mickey shook Ian’s hand with caution, darting his eyes between Ian and Svetlana.

                “Well, I have to go parade around the room and greet everyone and all that. If you need anything at all,” Ian looked pointedly at Mickey, “My room’s on the fourth deck, cabin 408.” He patted Mickey’s shoulder and strode away to join a conversation where a couple of execs were making a toast to something.

                Subtlety clearly wasn’t Ian Gallagher’s thing.

                And as it turned out, it wasn’t Mickey’s thing either by the end of the night. Not if the fact that he slipped a piece of paper with his phone number under the boss’s door was anything to go by. He was surprised Svetlana didn’t notice. She was too drunk to even walk in a straight line, while Mickey was completely sober. He’d rather be the drunk one. Before he and Svetlana even made it back to their room on the fifth deck, Mickey’s phone was already chiming in his pocket. His heart jumped as he felt the vibration against his thigh. Once they finally made it to their room Mickey helped Svetlana to the bed where she promptly passed out. He couldn’t scramble off to the bathroom fast enough. He shut and locked the door behind him and ripped his phone from his pocket. Sure enough there was a text from an unknown number. He quickly saved the number into his phone and read the text.

                [ **Gallagher] 1:38 AM:** Call me.

                Mickey hit the call button hard and held the phone to his ear, his foot tapping against the bathroom floor as he grew impatient with every ring. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Gallagher was making him wait.

                “Mickey,” Mickey could almost hear the knowing smirk in Gallagher’s voice. His voice sounded a bit huskier than earlier and since he obviously wasn’t sleeping, Mickey couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing.

                “How’d you know it was me?”

                “Let’s just say I had a feeling.”

                Mickey’s mouth was dry and his suit was constricting him more and more by the second so he started to strip down to his boxers. He heard a soft chuckle on the other line as he unbuckled his belt and he figured Gallagher must have heard.

                “So, how are you?” Ian asked.

                “Alright,” Mickey rolled his eyes. Was this guy really asking him how he fucking was? He was hornier than fuck, that’s how he was. But he wasn’t about to act like a desperate bitch and say it. “You?”

                “I’m good. A bit tipsy.” The sound of liquid being poured into a glass came through the phone and Mickey sighed, wishing he had a drink.

                “Wish I was in your shoes then,” he said. He bit the inside of his cheek and added, “Or bed. Whichever.”

                “Yeah?” Ian’s voice dropped a bit, and Mickey heard him make a little satisfied sound as he sipped at his drink. “I could settle for the second option.”

                “Wish I were there then. It’d be… interesting. To say the least.”

                “What would be interesting?”

                “Well,” Mickey wet his lips and leaned back against the bathroom door, sinking to the floor. “It’d be interesting to know what you’d do to me if I were in your bed right now.”

                “I can think of a lot of things,” Ian chuckled lowly. “What are you wearing?”

                Mickey would’ve normally scoffed at such a phone sex cliché, but he was way too fucking horny right now and Ian’s rough yet somehow smooth voice was only making the tent in his boxers worse.

                “Just boxers now,” Mickey shrugged. The tile floor was cold against his thighs but he barely noticed.

                “You shouldn’t be wearing _anything._ Take them off. Now.” Nobody told Mickey fucking Milkovich what to do in such a bossy way without getting their lights punched out. And yet, Mickey’s boxers quickly joined the pile of discarded clothes. The cold tile was much more noticeable against his ass cheeks so he crawled over to the rug next to the bathtub.

                “Are you naked yet?” Ian asked impatiently. Mickey quickly reached for his pants, pulling his earbuds out of the pocket and plugging them into his phone so his hands would be free.

                “Yeah.”

                “Good. What about your cock, huh? Are you all hard and throbbing for me yet?”

                “Fuck yeah…” Mickey looked down and yeah, he was the hardest he’d ever been in his fucking life. He hadn’t touched himself once and he could already see a streak of precome rolling down the underside of his shaft. His cock twitched as he heard the slick sounds of Ian stroking himself over the phone.

                “You don’t even know how fucking hot you are. I wanna tie you down and have my way with you all night, fuck you ‘til you scream.”

                Just the idea of being tied down and made to scream Gallagher’s name all night had Mickey absolutely _leaking_. He leaned back against the bathtub and set the phone down on his stomach, using his now free hands to start stroking himself slowly.

                “I’ll fuck you so hard we’ll make the bed frame slam into the wall and make you moan until you wake everyone up.”

                “Fuck, Gallagher…” Mickey groaned, using his other hand to slick up his hole with his own precome. His skin was flushed and his cheeks burning hot, and his cock was throbbing with need as he pumped his fist around it.

                “I’m so hard, Mickey. I’m fucking my fist and thinking about it being your nice, tight little ass. I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk the next day,” Ian’s breathing quickened, soft moans coming out through almost every other word. “I’ll make you beg for me to come over every night and fuck you because you need it that much.”

                “Every night, every day, I don’t give a fuck I just want you in me right fucking now,” Mickey couldn’t help it anymore. His mind was cloudy with pure lust as he pressed a finger into his hole, working it slow and deep. He was so tight since he hadn’t been fucked properly in more than a year.

                “I promise one of these nights we’re gonna have a whole lotta fun in my room. But right now I want you to think about my cock inside you, my _come_ inside you. I want you to feel like a little slut, because you’re _my_ little slut aren’t you?” Ian’s voice descended into an almost growl and Mickey almost blew his load right then. Being called Ian’s “little slut” shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. He should have told Gallagher to go fuck himself, that he wasn’t some bitch and hung up. But he was too far gone. By this point, he was about as drunk on lust as Svetlana was drunk on vodka. And he fucking loved it.

                “Yours… fuckin’ yours, want you to use me Gallagher…” Mickey fucked his fist and pushed another finger into his hole.

                “You better be in my room tomorrow so I can fuck you. You’re mine and no one else’s, I’ll use you and make you moan and scream.” Ian was obviously writhing around in his bed as Mickey could hear the sheets moving around.

                “Cabin 408 right? Leave your door unlocked, I wanna wake you up by sucking you off.”

                “If you do that I’ll just have to reward my good boy, won’t I?”

                “Come, I want your fucking come,” Mickey’s hips bucked convulsively, and he was just coherent enough to be embarrassed that he’d made his come fetish so obvious as he basically just begged for Ian’s.

                “Yeah? Where do you want it?” Ian asked roughly, and Mickey was relieved that it seemed to turn Ian on more.

                “Anywhere you want.”

                “What a good boy, letting me choose. How ‘bout your face? I wanna see those pretty blue eyes looking up at me while I shoot all over your face, then wipe it off with my fingers and make you suck it off.”

                That was it, what pushed Mickey over the edge. Not to mention he’d just accidentally found his prostate. He moaned out loudly as he came over his chest and stomach in thick ropes. He heard Ian let out a choked gasp then a long groan as he hit his climax as well.

                “Fuck,” he whined, “shot all over my phone.” Mickey frowned and pulled his fingers out of himself with a quiet gasp then wiped the phone off on the rug.

                “Me too,” Ian chuckled. There was a bit of silence after that (if you count pants and breathless moans from orgasmic aftershocks “silence.”) Mickey shut his eyes, dizzy and weak from the intensity of his climax.

                “So… You gonna be here tomorrow morning, or should I go ahead and lock my door?”

                Mickey’s chest heaved. He was lightheaded and sated but he still had the sense to think about Svetlana on the other side of the door.

                “Wh-what about--”

                “Don’t worry about her. Just tell me now, because I really don’t want to get up to lock the door.”

                Mickey chewed on the inside of his cheek, grabbing a nearby towel to clean his come off his body. He sighed as he came to his decision.

                “Stay in bed. I’ll be there.”

                Mickey could have sworn that he _felt_ the grin growing on Gallagher’s face, and his suspicions were confirmed by the elated tone of his voice.

                “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”


	2. Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey sneaks away in the early hours of the morning to give Ian a special wake up call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I planned to update this like a couple days ago but my wisdom teeth are coming in and the pain is so horrible that it's really hard for me to focus on writing, so please forgive me <3 The final part will be up soon, I promise. Also my smut is terrible omg I'm sorry.

                Had Mickey taken an entire bottle of valium, he still wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep that night. Svetlana was spread out across the bed so he didn’t even try to go there. There was a couch in the corner of the room so he just lied there instead. Still, he was too jittery to sleep. It’s not as though he hadn’t cheated on Svetlana before. But it was never like this. It was always quick fucks in alleyways with guys he met once in juvie. He didn’t bottom for them, he didn’t know their names, he probably couldn’t even point them out in a lineup. He’d never cheated with a guy whose face he’d memorized in just the short time he’d been looking at him. He’d never even met a guy he wanted to see more than once. And he _definitely_ wanted to see Gallagher more than once. Or rather, he wanted to see Gallagher’s ceiling. Over and over and over again, and as soon as possible. Which was why he was scurrying down the hallway at 4:58 AM. He took Ian for an early riser, so he headed to his cabin as soon as humanly possible. He almost knocked on the door when he remembered that Ian left it unlocked.

                The room was dark but Mickey could see Ian’s sleeping form on the bed. Mickey tiptoed over to the bed. He felt excitement (not to mention blood) pooling down his abdomen, adrenaline seeping out of his veins and through his muscles. He slowly pulled the blankets away from Ian’s body so as not to wake him just yet. Crawling onto the bed until he was level with Ian’s groin, Mickey tugged at the redhead’s boxers until they were around the middle of his thighs. Mickey smirked as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw that the carpet matched the drapes. Not to mention he was pretty gifted, anatomically speaking. Mickey hesitated, thinking about Svetlana. But the hesitation passed quickly, and he took Ian’s half-hard cock into his mouth. He felt it twitch against his tongue and heard a soft noise come from Ian’s throat as he stirred. Despite never having done it before, Mickey loved sucking cock. He loved watching it in porn and he’d always wanted someone to fuck his throat raw. But in the South Side when you’re rushing around in secret in some bar bathroom, there was no time for blowjobs. It was always fuck and run. So Mickey was going to enjoy this while he could.

                He continued to suck at the head of Ian’s cock until the lamp on the bedside table was turned on and he saw Ian looking down at him groggily.

                “Fuck, Mick.” Ian’s slender, calloused fingers made their way to Mickey’s face. He stroked his cheek then ran his fingers up his forehead until he had a good grip on his hair. He tugged at it slightly before he forced Mickey’s mouth down on his dick, his nose now pressed against Ian’s stomach. Mickey gagged around him as Ian grew to full hardness, and was even bigger than Mickey had thought. The tip hit the back of the brunet’s throat and he didn’t think he could last much longer but Ian was holding him there.

                “Swallow,” Ian instructed. Mickey’s eyes flicked up to Ian’s in confusion, but he did as he was told. It became a little easier to have that much of Ian’s dick in his mouth as he swallowed and he heard the man let out a throaty moan. Finally Ian tugged at Mickey’s hair and let him off, Mickey gasping and coughing.

                “You okay?” Ian asked, his free hand gently cupping Mickey’s jaw. Mickey was not okay. His throat was starting to feel sore, he was having trouble breathing, and he couldn’t discern whether it was precome or saliva or both running down his lips and chin. But he fucking loved it. He gave a slight nod and looked at Ian in desperation, hoping he would see that Mickey wanted more without him having to say it. Ian smirked and sat up. He reached over Mickey and grabbed his hips, pulling him up effortlessly so he was now on his hands and knees. Then he moved so he was sitting up his knees. He still had a hand in Mickey’ hair and he kept a tight grip as he guided his cock to Mickey’s lips. The second he took Ian into his mouth again, Mickey knew he was fucked. Ian had been more right the previous night than he knew, because he had Mickey wrapped around his finger now. Or rather, wrapped around his dick. Mickey was _his_ , and it only became more apparent as he moaned appreciatively around the hard cock in his mouth. He wanted more, and Ian could read it in his eyes because he smirked and grabbed Mickey’s hair with both hands.

                “Your fucking _mouth_ , Mickey,” Ian praised almost unintelligibly and Mickey felt his own cock straining against his boxers. Mickey let his jaw relax. Ian tightened his grip to hold Mickey steady and started to thrust into his mouth, and Mickey could actually feel the head of Ian’s cock going halfway down his throat. Mickey gagged and moaned, but he found that moaning helped him take it easier, just like when he was learning to swim and he figured out that humming underwater helped keep water out of his nose. Not to mention it was getting a strong reaction out of Ian. Ian fucked Mickey’s throat until Mickey was whining around him and he felt dizzy from lack of oxygen. When Ian finally pulled out of Ian’s mouth, Mickey was panting and his arms were shaking as they continued to hold him up. Ian’s cock was slick with his precome and Mickey’s saliva. Mickey’s lips were swollen and wet and his throat felt like it was on fire but he wanted more.

                Ian was more gentle now, running his fingers through Mickey’s hair to soothe the spots where he pulled it and slowly running the tip of his dick along Mickey’s lips. Mickey’s tongue flicked out lazily over the head as he continued to catch his breath.

                “I could fuck your mouth for _hours_ ,” Ian said with a grin, breathing heavily as well.

                “Why don’t you then?” Mickey smirked and sat back on his knees to give his arms a rest.

                “Because I wanna fuck _you_.” Ian said simply and began tugging at Mickey’s shirt to encourage him to undress. He pulled it up over Mickey’s head and dropped it to the floor by the bed, then pulled at his sweatpants and boxers until they joined his shirt on the floor. Ian undressed as well, and Mickey sure enjoyed watching.

                Ian reached for his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube, Mickey’s eyes widening. This would be the first time anything bigger than two fingers was in him in about four years and he’d be lying if he said Ian’s size didn’t concern him. But still, he wanted this more than anything.

                “Lie on your stomach,” Ian ordered, and Mickey quickly did so. Ian sat back so his shins were tucked under his thighs and he pulled Mickey so his face was in his lap, pulling the brunet’s arms around his waist so he could get comfortable. Mickey rested his cheek against Ian’s thigh, his forehead touching his hipbone and he closed his eyes as he relaxed where he was lying. It was the first time in a long time that he felt this calm, even if his breathing hadn’t quite caught up with him yet. Ian’s cock radiated warmth and Mickey could feel it, could smell the intoxicating scent of his arousal. He heard Ian fiddling around with the bottle of lube, pouring some onto his finger before leaning over and spreading Mickey’s ass, pouring the cool liquid on his hole. Mickey shivered slightly. He hugged Ian’s abdomen as he felt those slender fingers rubbing and teasing him. Normally he’d tell someone to hurry the fuck up before they got caught, but Mickey wanted this to last. Unlike Mickey’s previous fucks, Ian knew what he was doing and wanted to make Mickey feel as good as possible, and they had plenty of time. So Mickey let him tease a little. But only a little. He arched his ass up against Ian’s fingers and groaned softly into the skin of Ian’s thigh.

                “I knew this ass was gonna be nice and tight but _damn_ ,” Ian said appreciatively, pressing his middle finger inside of Mickey. By no means did it go in easily, but the lube took away the burning sensation he would have felt otherwise. Mickey moaned as Ian didn’t bother to let him adjust, already pushing in a second finger. Mickey opened his eyes as he realized Ian had him in this position for a reason. He lifted his head up and took Ian’s cock into his mouth, sucking it feverishly as Ian gasped above him.

                “Good boy, you know exactly what I want don’t you?” Ian’s voice was rough with arousal and he started scissoring his fingers inside of Mickey, making the man whimper an affirmation.

                “And I promised I’d reward you if you were a good little slut, didn’t I?” Mickey moaned eagerly, nodding the best he could with a dick in his mouth. Ian smirked and pulled his fingers out. Mickey sighed at the loss but Ian was pulling his mouth off his cock. Mickey laid his head back on Ian’s cheek so he could look up at him.

                “And since I know how much you like come, we’re gonna see how many times you can make me come today.”

                Mickey felt heat rising to his cheeks and embarrassment crept up in his chest. He was about to get up and leave but as he saw Ian’s face he realized he wasn’t making fun of him. If anything, Mickey’s fixation with come had him even more turned on. Mickey hadn’t realized his muscles had tensed up until Ian was rubbing his shoulders gently.

                “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about anything here, okay? You’re _my_ slut, and I love your kinks. I have a couple of my own,” Ian said with a reassuring smile. Mickey blinked up at him and let his muscles relax once more. Somehow he felt… safe. And it was a strange, new feeling for him. Safety was sorely lacking with his lifestyle. He hugged Ian’s waist tighter and closed his eyes, allowing himself this moment to _be_ himself. Ian pushed a hand through his hair soothingly.

                “Now,” Ian broke their comfortable silence a few moments later, “let’s see if you can make me come at least _twice_ today.” Mickey looked up at him and smirked.

                “I bet I can make you come three times.”

                “Well, I _am_ a gambling man,” Ian smirked back and patted Mickey’s arm so he would get up. He guided Mickey onto his back and settled between his legs. Mickey had never fucked face-to-face before, and it was a little unnerving. Ian rested his hands on either side of Mickey’s head and leaned down to kiss him. Mickey jerked his head away quickly, his heart stopping momentarily. Their lips had only brushed against each other before Mickey moved, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through his entire body. Ian looked at him, puzzled.

                “What? Do I have morning breath or something?” He chuckled. Mickey relaxed at the soft sound and shook his head.

                “I don’t kiss.”

                “You kiss Svetlana, don’t you?”

                “No,” Mickey frowned. “I don’t kiss anyone.” Ian furrowed his brows.

                “Why not?”

                Why not? Mickey couldn’t think of a good answer, except that it was too gay, so he just shrugged. Ian’s eyes wandered down to Mickey’s lips daringly. Mickey wanted to push him away. Or at least, that’s what he thought he wanted. But as Ian leaned in as slowly as humanly possible to give Mickey the chance to stop him, he just watched him close in. When he finally felt the feather-light brush of Ian’s lips against his own, he closed his eyes and let himself take in the warmth of Ian’s kiss. Ian pulled away too soon, leaving Mickey wanting more against his own will. He hated that he wanted to deepen that kiss but he knew the game Ian was playing at. He seemed to enjoy teasing. He reached over to the bedside table and pulled a sleeve of condoms out of the drawer, but Mickey stopped him. Ian cocked an eyebrow skeptically.

                “You don’t want me to use one?” Ian asked, but he quickly came to the realization that of course Mickey didn’t want to use one. A condom would just result in wasted come and Mickey wanted it all.

                “I’m clean,” Mickey insisted. “I got tested a month ago and I haven’t fucked anybody since.”

                “And you won’t fuck anybody again, no one but me.” Mickey swallowed convulsively, feeling his dick twitch at Ian’s possessive words. Ian grabbed Mickey’s thighs and pulled him closer, lining himself up with Mickey’s hole, and Mickey realized this was exactly what he needed. He needed someone to take control away from him, to _own_ him for a while. Everything in his life had spiraled out of his control and he spent so much time trying to get that control back, but he was comfortable now to let Ian have that control. The chaotic motion of his life subsided, and Ian was the reason. Ian was his master now, and he knew it. And he wasn’t even going to try to fight it. He didn’t want to.

                Ian pushed into him, slow and hard, until he bottomed out. Mickey was right, Ian’s size was almost too much for him. He grabbed at Ian’s hips, feeling like a useless, whimpering virgin. His own cock laid heavy and neglected across his stomach. And he had a feeling it was going to stay neglected judging by the way Ian grabbed his wrists to pin above his head. Mickey had never felt so full in his life. Ian was so still for a moment that Mickey could feel the pulsing of Ian’s cock inside him. He tried to buck his hips to make Ian move, but he tightened his grip on Mickey’s wrists.

                “If you want something, you have to ask.”

                “Fuck you,” Mickey muttered, looking away from Ian.

                “Mickey, look at me,” Ian’s voice softened a bit. Mickey scoffed but looked up at Ian grudgingly.

                “If you want something, you can ask.” There was only a slight change in the wording Ian used, but it made all the difference. Mickey dropped his gaze and nodded slightly.

                “You can ask me,” Ian reassured him. Mickey squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, taking a long a deep breath. As if to save face, he opened his eyes and looked up with a little more confidence.

                “Stop fucking teasing me and _fuck_ me.” Mickey growled. He may like to be dominated, but that by no means made him submissive. Ian didn’t hesitate to fulfill his wishes. He squeezed Mickey’s wrists until he was sure they’d bruise and began plowing into him mercilessly. Ian had promised to make Mickey scream, and he was definitely working hard towards that goal. Mickey’s legs had previously been locked around Ian’s waist, but in his haze of pain and pleasure his knees had come up near his chest and the angle that created for Ian to piston into him, hitting his sweet spot every time, was simply too much to handle. He wasn’t even sure if his eyes were closed anymore, white dots clouded his vision and his eyes were all but rolling back into his head. He was completely entranced by the sound of Ian’s panting and the bed frame slamming against the wall. And without a doubt, he was as close to screaming as he’d ever be. Ian was brutal and possessive and Mickey fucking loved every second of it. He was starting to realize it didn’t matter if he or Ian touched his cock, he was going to come anyway.  

                “Fuck, fuck, my little slut, all mine, all fucking mine,” Ian sighed into Mickey’s ear, his thrusts becoming erratic and rougher until Mickey actually _did_ let out a scream. His thighs shook as keeping them near his chest suddenly became a huge effort as he hit his climax. Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten as he came hard over his stomach and chest, he was pretty sure some had even gotten on his thighs, then his muscles relaxed and his legs fell back to the bed. He began to squirm and whine breathlessly, feeling over-stimulated as Ian continued to hit his bundle of nerves. He was thankful that Ian was pinning his wrists or he’d be grabbing at the sheets desperately.

                Ian finally lost it, pulling out of Mickey fast and shooting over the brunet’s softening cock and ass. He let go of Mickey’s wrists and pushed back into him once more, as deep as he could until Mickey’s back arched and then he went limp. Ian didn’t start moving again and he didn’t pull out. He stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily and running a hand through Mickey’s sweat-soaked hair.

                “I’m not even gonna pull out yet. You’re so fucking tight, you just might be able to make me hard again. You promised to make me come three times today, right?” Ian smirked but it wasn’t as lascivious as his words were. It was too sweet, too fond. And Mickey couldn’t look away from it. He was soaked in sweat and come, his pale skin was blotched with blush, and his thigh muscles were twitching every so often. But Ian was looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world right now. His own personal eighth wonder of the world. Mickey wanted to be weirded out by Ian’s too-fond looks and puppy dog eyes, but he was still in that dizzy delirium after he climaxed that made nothing else in the world matter but him, Ian, and the dull buzzing that seemed to move through every inch of his body.

                “Who do you belong to?” Ian asked softly, pushing his fingers through the dark hair of the man beneath him.

                “You…” Mickey breathed out without hesitation. Ian nodded with a gentle smile playing at his lips.

                “And me?”

                Mickey furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “The fuck are you talking about?”

                “Who do _I_ belong to?”

                “I don’t know?” Mickey shrugged lazily. Ian chuckled and moved so he and Mickey were spooning, being careful not to pull out of him of course, and kissed his shoulder. He draped his arm over Mickey's waist.

                “How is someone who’s so goddamn smart so stupid sometimes?” Ian whispered. Mickey didn’t quite understand, so he just shook his head.

                “We’re not really gonna fucking _spoon_ while we wait for your dick to get hard, are we?” Mickey asked with a scoff, but yelped when he received a hard spank to his left ass cheek. He wasn’t about to lie and say he didn’t like it.

                “Of course we are, now shut the fuck up and relax with me,” Ian said, but there was no malice in his words. He was playful and sweet, nothing like the man who’d just fucked Mickey to holy hell. Mickey was starting to understand that Ian in bed and Ian in life were two completely different people. And he wasn’t sure which one he wanted to choose, or even if he could choose. Of course he knew he could only really have Ian for a fuck because anything more than that meant leaving Svetlana. And he wasn’t sure if he could do that, at least not without his dad and/or Svetlana ripping his balls off.

                But that was something he’d have to worry about later. Right now he had to focus on making Ian come as many times as human biology would permit.


	3. Too Fucked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mickey, please. You really don’t want to go into your room right now.”
> 
> “Uh, yeah. I really do. Stop being so fucking weird.” Mickey pushed past Ian who was now gripping his hair as he stood in place uselessly. Finally Ian just followed him to his room and once again stopped him outside the door.
> 
> “Mickey, for the sake of both of our eyes, please just fucking listen to me and wait until dinner.” Mickey ignored him completely and shoved his key into the lock in annoyance at the jumpy redhead at his side. Mickey pushed open the door once he heard the click of the lock and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after some thought (and all your lovely comments) I've decided to continue this rather than end it at this chapter, and I have quite a bit planned. I hope you guys like how it comes out <3

                “I think we missed breakfast,” Ian panted, lying back on his pillow.

                “I think we missed _lunch_.” The worn out men exchanged a glance and broke out into sputtering laughter. They weren’t quite sure what time it was, only that they were pretty sure if they tried to fuck one more time their dicks would probably give out forever.  The slightest touch to any part of Mickey’s body would have him writhing and moaning. His prostate was abused in only the most wonderful way and his body was covered in marks. There were bruises on his thighs, wrists, and throat, and Ian’s hickeys littering his pale skin as a testament to his ownership over Mickey. Not to mention Ian had fucked his throat raw and spanked his ass until it was covered in bright red welts and some bruises so sitting or talking more than was necessary wasn’t going to be an option. He was over sensitive and completely exhausted but he couldn’t fall asleep in Ian’s bed. He needed to get back to Svetlana, she was probably freaking out over his disappearance. Not out of concern really, it was more likely she’d ream him for just disappearing like that.

                “I gotta go man. Svetlana’s probably looking for me.” Mickey sat up and pulled his pack of cigarettes and lighter from his discarded sweatpants on the floor. He lit one up and started to get up to dressed.

                “What time is it?” Ian asked. He pushed himself halfway up on his elbows and began fiddling around looking for his phone. Mickey pulled his own phone from his sweatpants pocket.

                “Almost four.” Mickey glanced at Ian just quick enough to see him hide his sudden deer in the headlights look. Ian pouted and reached out for Mickey’s wrist, pulling him to sit back on the bed. He mouthed at Mickey’s back, running his tongue to soothe some scratches he hadn’t even realized he’d given Mickey.

                “Don’t go yet, come on. I’ve never fucked anyone as good as you. I bet I could come one more time for you?” Ian snaked his arms around Mickey’s waist and ran his hands slowly over his still-twitching thighs as he came up with excuses for Mickey to stay. Mickey cocked an eyebrow but didn’t move, enjoying Ian’s attention too much.

                “I think if you tried to come one more time, _dust_ would come out,” Mickey teased. “We both hit our limit, man. The last time we came, nothing even came out. We’re not as young as we once were.”

                “We’re obviously not _that_ old yet. We came four times. That’s the most I’ve come in one day since I was like, twelve,” Ian said with a goofy laugh. And there it was again. Playful, sweet Ian. Not the Ian who wrapped those now gentle fingers around his throat and choked Mickey until he was shooting over his stomach in a state of complete euphoria. Mickey couldn’t get attached to this Ian. He couldn’t.

                “Look, Gallagher. This shit obviously isn’t going to be a one-time thing, so I’m not gonna try to play hard to get or some shit. I wanna see you again, I wanna _fuck_ you again,” Mickey worried the corner of his lip and blew out a ring of smoke. He appreciated the perfect shape of it before he started speaking again. “But I’m engaged. I gotta play it straight. And right now, I gotta go find Svetlana before she kills me.” Mickey stood up before Ian could protest again and pulled his shirt on, heading for the door.

                “Mickey!” Ian jumped out of bed and almost fell over trying to rush into his boxers. “Just stay and watch a movie or something with me, alright? We can find Svetlana at dinner and we can tell her we were talking business or—“

                “The fuck is the matter with you?” Mickey furrowed his eyebrows at Ian who had followed him halfway down the hallway. “Don’t walk around out here in your boxers, someone’s gonna see you. Stupid prick,” he rolled his eyes and kept walking, only to be stopped by Ian skipping in front of him.

                “Mickey, please. You _really_ don’t want to go into your room right now.”

                “Uh, yeah. I _really_ do. Stop being so fucking weird.” Mickey pushed past Ian who was now gripping his hair as he stood in place uselessly. Finally Ian just followed him to his room and once again stopped him outside the door.

                “Mickey, for the sake of _both_ of our eyes, please just fucking listen to me and wait until dinner.” Mickey ignored him completely and shoved his key into the lock in annoyance at the jumpy redhead at his side. Mickey pushed open the door once he heard the _click_ of the lock and stepped inside. He caught sight of movement at his right but there seemed to be nothing there, just the ocean-themed couch he slept on the night before. He mentally made fun of the octopi and seahorses decorating the upholstery before he noticed Svetlana lying back on the bed, looking flushed and uneasy. She was holding a book, but she didn’t seem to be too into it. Her eyes remained fixed as if she were staring at one word. Mickey furrowed his eyebrows and stepped further into the room.

                “Hey, you a’right?” Mickey asked, his words lazy and forced, but his concern genuine. Svetlana waved him off with an impossibly enormous smile and set the book down.

                “Where you go all day?”

                Mickey thought he caught more movement out of the corner of his eye but when he turned around to look all he saw was Ian standing at the door. He had been looking off down the hall but when Mickey turned to him his head snapped back to the couple in the room with a startled expression. Mickey almost thought he saw Ian mouthing words when he was looking down the hall.

                “Oh, we were talking business. Thought maybe I could get Mickey a job at the office.”

                “Mick? In an office?” Svetlana laughed dryly and stood up, her pink silken robe flowing behind her as she headed towards the closet. “I would not recommend hiring him. He’ll lose his mind and shoot everyone by week two.”

                “Yeah, that’s what I told him,” Mickey lied. He watched as Svetlana searched through the closet until she pulled out a wine red cocktail dress. She laid it out on the bed and admired it. Then she turned to the boys with her hands on her hips.

                “Dinner’s in an hour. You should get ready,” she looked pointedly at Ian’s boxers and the redhead laughed heartily.

                “Yeah yeah, okay Lana. See you later Mick, and think about my offer,” Ian winked, then disappeared down the hallway. Mickey wasn’t sure if Ian was just trying to make their lie more convincing or if he actually had offered Mickey something at some point, but his brain was too fucked out to try to remember. Mickey was glad Svetlana didn’t get too close to him before she went to take a shower otherwise she would have smelled the easily identifiable scent of sex and sweat on him. He waited until she finished then hurried inside. He took a look at himself in his nakedness in the mirror, and the sight had his arousal stirring. His skin was littered with bruises and bite marks, especially his thighs and wrists. As the hot water of the shower ran over his hair he hissed as his scalp was sensitive from Ian gripping and pulling his hair. He fucking loved it.

                They got ready for dinner that night (with Mickey wearing a dark suit that covered every mark) quietly. Though they didn’t speak much, they were both incredibly happy. Mickey didn’t know what made Svetlana so happy but he didn’t question it. It was better than her being grumpy and bitching at him the whole night about his sloppily done tie. This time a few people sat with them at dinner. One was a particularly bubbly blonde that was sitting so close to Svetlana that she was practically in her lap and they were giggling and talking. They were talking in Russian so Mickey didn’t quite understand. Not that he cared to know what the topic of conversation was. The blonde’s husband looked equally disinterested, swirling the wine in his glass with such indifference that Mickey wanted to applaud him. If only he could look as bored without looking like a serial killer plotting to murder the entirety of the cruise’s guest list.

                “Well don’t you look the picture of absolute fascination?” The empty seat to his right was suddenly filled by a certain (motherfucking dashing) Ian Gallagher. Mickey barked out a laugh and drank the last of his third glass of Jameson.

                “Oh yeah, listening to two drunk broads gossiping in a language I don’t understand piques my interest to no end,” Mickey said, adding his signature eye roll at the end. Svetlana apparently heard what he said because a dinner roll was launched at his temple. He shot her a dirty glance. She returned it and went back to laughing with her friend. Ian snickered at their exchange.

                “Buy you a drink?” Ian asked, then eyed Mickey. “Or maybe I should cut you off before you get too fucked.”

                “No such thing as too fucked, remember?” Mickey smirked, referring to Ian’s own words earlier just before their last fuck when Mickey said he was too fucked out to go again. A light blush spread over Ian’s freckled cheeks, but his confident demeanor hid his embarrassment well.

                “Right. So, another drink?” Ian smiled.

                “Jameson,” Mickey said, holding up his empty glass. He kind of wanted something cold, like a frozen margarita or some shit, but his aunt always taught him and his siblings not to mix drinks. Pick your poison and stick with it all night. He learned it was a good idea after he tried a cocktail of one shot of every drink in the family liquor cabinet. He felt like he was dying the next morning. He never took any chances after that. But he was sweating his ass off since Ian got there so he decided, fuck it. He wouldn’t get a different drink, just something to go with his Jameson.

                “And an ice cold coke, it’s fucking hot in here,” he called after Ian who got up to go to the bar.  Ian turned and walked backwards, smiling knowingly. A waiter came by to serve everyone their dinner but Mickey barely noticed him.

                “Yeah you’re right, it is.” Fuck, why did everything have to be so flirty with Gallagher? Mickey was going to be in trouble if Svetlana found out about him and her boss, and here this fucker was flirting with him in public. But Svetlana and her blonde friend were still chatting endlessly, lost in their own world, and the blonde’s husband still sat swishing the wine in his glass with a tiresome frown. He sighed forlornly and took a swig of his wine, glancing at his wife before getting up and walking off somewhere. She didn’t even notice. No one gave a fuck about Mickey and Ian right now, they had their own shit. So when Ian came back with two glasses of Jameson and coke with a flirtatious smile that, to be honest, reminded him of the World War II pinup girls in Iggy’s posters back home, he returned the smile with a his own coquettish smirk.


	4. Rules of Enslavement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey discuss rules before they go any further with their trysting.

                Mickey's world was spinning violently, and he was only vaguely aware of his own drunken tittering. The laughter sounded impossibly far away but he could feel the contractions in his throat that accompanied the giggles. Ian's voice sounded even farther than his own. Ian was begging him to quiet down before the entire deck woke up as a result of Mickey's vulgar words. He could barely see in front of him, the hallway reminded him of that painter, Dali. Everything was distorted and confused. Ian was obviously a billion times more sober than Mickey was as he was the one who was leading them to... Well, wherever he was guiding Mickey.  Mickey had a vague memory of Svetlana drunkenly complaining about him being inebriated and claiming she wouldn't share a room with him when he was like this before she took off with her blonde friend. Mickey didn't remember seeing the blonde's husband go with them. To be honest, he wasn't even sure if that guy left the bar after he came back into the dining cabin. So now he was walking (practically being carried by Ian, actually) down the hall of the fifth deck with his cock half-hard and his thoughts dragging him further into the gutter.

                "Mickey seriously, just shut up until we get to my cabin," said Ian in a hushed shout. Mickey couldn't help but laugh.  
  
                "Wha's with th'whisper shouting shit? Why not jus' fuckin' yell?" Mickey's face felt numb so he wasn't quite aware of the face-splitting grin that would have put the Grinch to shame.  
  
                "Oh!" Mickey exclaimed, slapping his palm against his forehead. "We're bein' quiet so Sv'lana won't hear us, right?" He whispered loudly.  
  
                "Yes Mickey, we have to be quiet. Just a little farther." Ian slipped his arm around Mickey's waist and pulled the intoxicated man's arm to rest around his shoulders. Mickey held his stomach with his free arm as he cackled.  
  
                "Shhhh, we have t' be quiet. Sve'lana can't know we're fucking."  
  
                Ian sighed dramatically and finally managed to get to the door of his cabin, no thanks to Mickey. He fumbled with his keys for a moment but got the door open quickly. After carrying Mickey the rest of the way to the bed, Ian closed and locked the door and joined Mickey on the bed. Mickey's head was lolling from side to side and his hands were traveling over the surface of the bed sheets as if they were made of the softest material ever created.  
  
                "This better not turn into some 'stroke the furry wall' bullshit." Ian chuckled to himself. He stripped down to his boxers and then helped Mickey out of his clothes. He folded their clothes gingerly and left them on the couch by the window. A quick peek out the window at the calm dark of the ocean at night and he was content. But a glance over his shoulder at the man lying almost naked in his bed and he was just downright joyous. He went to the bathroom to take his medication and brush his teeth, trying to get rid of the taste of Jameson. He didn't mind the taste of it on Mickey's lips, but he wasn’t fond of drinking the stuff. He had three drinks which left him feeling a little fuzzy, but other than that he was just glad he got to spend the night with Mickey. After taking some Advil as a preemptive strike against a hangover, Ian downed a glass of water and turned off the bathroom light. When he stepped back out into the room, Mickey's hands were roaming his body. Not quite in an erotic way as if he were horny (which he was, but that's beside the point), but rather as though his skin felt like some kind of new texture he'd never experienced before. Basically, Mickey was really fucking drunk. Ian knew he shouldn't have kept getting Mickey drinks. He should have cut him off after the third or fourth but no, Ian was so busy trying to stay in the brunet's favor that he neglected to acknowledge that alcohol poisoning was a pertinent possibility at this point.  
  
                He rejoined Mickey on the bed, and he was lazily pulled on top of Mickey by the drunken man himself. He felt Mickey's hands snake around his waist and up his back, into his hair then back down to his ass.  
  
                "Come on 'n fuck me," Mickey slurred. He moved to kiss Ian but Ian pulled back a bit.  Mickey was way too fucking drunk, and Ian made a point not to fuck anyone who was just moments away from needing an emergency liver transplant.  
  
                "Mickey, you're wasted. You _passed_ wasted four Jamesons ago. Time to sleep," he reasoned, gently touching Mickey's cheeks which were warm and tinged with pink.  
  
                "Please? You said I was yours, I wanna be yours again," Mickey mumbled, his eyes rolling back and drifting shut. He mumbled something after ‘again’ that, and he wasn’t totally sure, Ian thought might have been ‘master’ or ‘sir’. No doubt Ian was suddenly turned on to an incredible degree, but he was adamant about not taking advantage of Mickey. Before he could address the fact that Mickey had just possibly called him his master, Ian heard the light snores in Mickey's throat that almost sounded like a kitten's purr. Mickey was out cold, his chest rising and falling in a slow and even rhythm as he breathed. Ian was flustered. He'd never asked Mickey to call him anything regarding his dominance even though his treatment of Mickey in bed had probably caused him to think that's what Ian wanted. Of course, Ian did want that. But he had gathered so far that with most things, Mickey must come out of his shell without Ian's say so or influence. But maybe Mickey _wanted_ to call him that. Maybe Mickey got off on it just as much as Ian did, the way they both got off on Mickey belonging to him even though they both knew Ian didn't think of him as his property. Either way, Mickey was stretched out on Ian’s bed and Ian couldn’t help but touch him. He ran his fingers slowly up Mickey’s abdomen, which made the sleeping man shudder and roll over. Ian let out a breathy laugh and maneuvered Mickey until he was laying properly with his head on the pillow. Asleep, Mickey reminded Ian of a twitchy kitten, running from a dog in his dreams. Ian knew Mickey would probably kill him for thinking so, but it was fucking adorable.

                When Mickey woke up the next morning, he thought he was dying for three reasons. One: his head pounded with the intensity of a thousand war drums raging right next to his ears at 150 dB. Two: he saw a light so bright he was certain he must have been looking into either the eyes of Jesus or the fires of hell, though admittedly that could have just been sunlight streaming in through the window. And finally, he was pretty sure there was an angel lying next to him. However, upon further inspection, he came to realize it was in fact Ian Gallagher. How did he end up in Gallagher’s bed? The previous night was a fucked up blur and he couldn’t discern whether the events he remembered actually happened or if they were just dreams. He half-heartedly shoved Ian’s shoulder to wake him but his vision was so blurry he accidentally hit Ian in the face. Ian blinked awake bemusedly, looking at Mickey with wide eyes.

                “Oh good, you’re awake.” Mickey said with mock innocence. Ian didn’t look annoyed, he just grinned wide and propped his head up with his hand.

                “I like you like this. Curled up under my blankets, your voice rough from sleeping.”

                Mickey’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. “When you’re done being such a fucking homo, you wanna get me something for this hangover?” He slurred sleepily. He had to look away from Ian, because the stupid fuck was smiling so much at him. Ian slid off the bed and he practically skipped off to the little kitchenette to the far left of the cabin. Mickey couldn’t understand how anyone could wake up so chipper. He sat up a little in bed and frowned down at the morning wood that was showing clearly through the blankets. He grabbed one of the massive pillows and covered it up, hugging the pillow to him as a makeshift support to keep him from tiredly slumping forward. He watched Ian move around the kitchenette with a little spring in his step.

                “What’d we even do last night anyway?” Mickey asked, trying not to make it obvious that he was admiring Ian’s body as he was only in boxers. Of course, this did nothing to alleviate the throbbing of his hard-on.

                “Well, you got blitzed, Svetlana told us to fuck off ‘cause you were drunk, we came back here,” Ian took a sip of the coffee he poured himself and poured another cup for Mickey, then pulled some breakfast burritos out of the microwave, “you begged me to fuck you, I didn’t, and we fell asleep.” Ian ignored the scowl on Mickey’s face as he rejoined him on the bed, handing him coffee and a breakfast burrito.

                “Don’t fucking exaggerate. I don’t beg,” Mickey said matter of factly. Ian shot him a cheeky smirk.

                “You don’t? ‘Please fuck me, sir, I wanna be yours, I wanna be fucked by my master.” Ian teased him lightly, but Mickey looked mortified.

                “I did not say that!”

                “Well, close enough—“

                “I did not fucking call you sir,” Mickey blushed brightly because he could vaguely recall that happening and, yeah, he had called Ian that. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Ian know that. “I said _Gallagher_. I was drunk, slurring. I didn’t call you that.” He defended himself stubbornly. Ian held his hands up in surrender and Mickey waited until the redhead swallowed down the mouthful of burrito that kept him from saying what he was trying to interject Mickey’s rambling with.

                “Okay, okay. Fine. Seriously Mickey, you gotta calm down. I already told you that pretty much anything goes here.” Ian frowned and Mickey thought he looked like a kicked puppy. Mickey shrugged it off, focusing instead on his coffee.

                “Look,” Ian sighed, swilling down the last of his coffee. “We gotta talk about this.”

                “Talk about what?”

                “This.” Ian waved his hands around himself and Mickey in an awkward gesture and Mickey almost laughed.

                “This? What, the fucking?”

                “Yeah. We gotta have rules and shit, we have to talk about what we want.”

                “This ain’t little league, man. Since when did fucking need rules?”

                “Come on Mickey!” Ian complained. He set his empty coffee mug on the bedside table and sat cross-legged in front of Mickey. “If we don’t talk and have rules and _trust_ each other, we’re just gonna be Christian Grey and Ana Steele.”

                “Who the fuck are they?” Mickey asked with his mouth full, then decided he didn’t care and waved his hand dismissively while he swallowed. “So what, like safety words and shit like that? Seriously?”

                “Well, yeah. Definitely safewords. So I can hear you beg me to stop when you think you can’t take it anymore, when really you’re getting off on it just as much as I am,” Ian licked his lips tantalizingly and Mickey couldn’t help but look. But he knew Ian was just trying to distract him, so he rolled his eyes forcibly and finished off his coffee. Thankfully, his hangover was slowly starting to fade. The sunlight from the window was still a bitch though.

                “Okay, fine. Maybe we can do that then. But this isn’t a relationship or anything. This is _fucking_.” Mickey watched as Ian’s eyes darted to the pillow that was still covering the brunet’s boxers. He reclaimed Ian’s attention quickly.

                “Lawman. That’s my safeword.”

                “Lawman?” Ian blinked at him momentarily, his head cocked sideways like a puppy. Mickey had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling at the other man’s stupid mannerisms. “Isn’t that Steven Seagal’s cop show?”

                “Yeah,” Mickey scowled defiantly. “Got a problem with that?”

                “Nope. Mine’ll be bloodsport then.”

                Mickey scoffed but decided to keep his mouth shut at Ian’s ridiculous Van Damme reference. He played quietly with one of the tassles that decorated the corners of the pillow, refusing to meet Ian’s eye.

                “So, you want me to call you sir and shit like that?” He muttered after several silent moments.

                “ _Only_ if you want to.” Ian scooted closer to Mickey. He pulled the pillow slowly out of Mickey’s lap and ran his fingertips down the brunet’s chest, palming the front of his boxers. “Do you want to?”

                Mickey let out a breathy gasp and Ian started rubbing his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, which were beginning to get wet as precum leaked from his slit. “Yes.” Mickey finally whispered shakily, trying to buck his hips against Ian’s hand. Ian used his other hand to hold Mickey’s hip to keep him from moving.

                “’Yes’, what?” Ian prompted experimentally.

                Mickey let go a little, his tensed body relaxing into Ian’s touch. “Yes sir.”

                “Good boy,” Ian beamed so happily just then and moved Mickey so his legs were stretched out before him and he could pull off his boxers. He then wrapped his fingers around Mickey’s weeping cockhead and began to pump him slowly. Mickey felt like he was in fucking heaven. He always thought Ian would have the soft, gentle hands of a man who’d never worked a day in his life, but he was pleased to be wrong. Ian’s hands were just as calloused as Mickey’s and the slightly rough skin against his dick felt amazing. But of course, as if cued by the patron saint of cockblocking, Mickey’s phone rang from his folded up suit pants on Ian’s couch.

                “Nice ringtone,” Ian teased.

                “It’s, it’s Svetlana’s…” Mickey managed to croak out through stifled moans. Ian stopped moving his hand which caused Mickey to hold back a disappointed whine.

                “Your fiance’s  ringtone is the Vincent Price laugh?” He broke out into sputtering laughter and Mickey almost yelled at him, but he had just fallen into that pleasant head space where Ian had complete control over him, and he didn’t want to be a “bad boy”.

                “Can you just get it for me?” Mickey sighed, trying to recover from his pleasure. Ian let out a longsuffering groan and got up to bring Mickey’s phone to him.

                “Hello?” Mickey held the phone slightly away from his ear, prepared for the screeches of a deranged bat. But Svetlana sounded annoyingly pleasant and only mildly concerned about where Mickey was.

                “You have hangover too, yes?”  She sounded worn out and Mickey shrugged.

                “It hurt like a motherfucker earlier, but I had some coffee so it’s kind of—“ Mickey was cut off by Ian straddling Mickey’s lap, now naked as well.

                “It’s kind of better,” he managed to finish his sentence before Ian wrapped his hand around both of their cocks, swiping his thumb over their precum-slicked slits. Mickey’s hips would have jerked up at the sensation if Ian hadn’t been straddling him. Ian immediately attacked his neck with lips and teeth, licking and biting and sucking where he could.

                “Are you coming back to the cabin?” Svetlana asked on the other line, but Mickey barely registered her question because Ian was nibbling his other ear and whispering to him.

                “My marks from yesterday are starting to fade, we gotta make more so everyone knows you belong to me,” he cooed, flicking his tongue out along the shell of Mickey’s ear. Mickey was so focused on Ian’s words and how close he was to coming that he took too long to realize Svetlana was yelling.

                “Mickey!” She screeched, and Mickey forced himself to pay attention to the phone again.

                “What?!”

                “You coming back soon or not?”

                Mickey almost fell into a daze again but Ian snapped him out of it.

                “Tell her you’re doing a job interview with me and learning about the company, ‘cause I want you here all day.”

                Mickey obeyed without hesitation. Svetlana didn’t seem to mind much. She said “alright” and ended the call without another word. Mickey dropped his phone to the mattress. He was so close to coming he was pretty sure he was going crazy. He panted against Ian’s shoulder while said redhead nipped and sucked at his neck and jerked them off with his fist.

                “What’d she say?” Ian murmured into Mickey’s newly bruised skin.

                “I can stay,” Mickey said through his moans, and just when he was about to blow his load, Ian stopped and pulled away from him, much to Mickey’s dismay.

                “Then let’s stop playing, and get serious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long to update, I've been working on school and my Big Bang fic. BUT I just wanted to let you guys know I'm taking a few prompts for this fic! So if there's any sexy stuff you wanna see the boys doing, comment here or send me an ask on tumblr (rain-dance-mickey) and I may include it. Don't be afraid to ask for something freaky, "kinky" is my middle name. And if it doesn't get used in this fic, I'll probably write a oneshot for it anyway.


	5. Mind Your Manners Mickey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sensation hit Mickey only milliseconds before the sound did. Electricity jolted through every nerve in his body and Mickey found himself squirming desperately. The vibrating sounds were loud, but Mickey was much louder.
> 
> “Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck is that!?” Mickey tried to squirm away from Ian despite the fact that his ankles were tied tightly behind the redhead’s back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of your suggestions, so fucking much. I used one or two in here, and I've already planned some others. If you think of any more, feel free to let me know! Also I'm sorry it's probably very rough, I'm too tired and worn out to edit it.

                Mickey Milkovich had never been so turned on in his entire life. Sure, getting roughed up and fucked up and down the cabin the day before was one of the hottest experiences, but this was on another level entirely. That was just rough fucking. But this? This was torture. The best kind of torture, too. They talked about a few more rules but as soon as the pillow talk was done, Mickey found himself blindfolded and bound with some of Ian’s ties. Mickey wanted to be concerned that they were ruining some very expensive ties, but the feeling of being restrained had him too hard to even think straight. Ian made Mickey stand naked in the middle of the room, his hands tied bound behind him and his chest heaving with excitement. Mickey’s instincts were working in overdrive since he couldn’t see, and he could hear the gentle sounds of Ian’s bare feet on the carpet. He could practically _feel_ Ian circling him slowly, like a predator torturing it’s prey by making its presence known; the prey knew the predator was there, but could never pinpoint its location. Every once in a while he would feel the hint of a breeze on his neck and he’d be left to wonder whether it was the fan in the corner of the room or Ian momentarily stepping closer to him. This went on for several minutes while Mickey was painfully hard until Ian appeared behind Mickey, leaning to talk into the restrained man’s ear.

                “You have no idea how much I love to see you all marked up with my bruises,” Ian emphasized this by latching onto a spot just under Mickey’s ear, making Mickey shiver and bite back a moan. He sucked a mark into Mickey’s skin that felt especially sore once he was done, and he stepped back to admire it. He trailed his fingertips so lightly along the bruise that Mickey was sure no actual contact was made.

                “I want you to look at these bruises every chance you get, so you never forget that you’re mine.” Ian’s voice had grown husky, and he grabbed Mickey’s shoulders to lead him to the couch near the window. Ian sat down first, then instructed Mickey to kneel down. Mickey sat with his shins tucked under his thighs and between Ian’s legs. Ian scooted to the edge of the couch and braced a hand on the back of Mickey’s head, using his other hand to tease Mickey’s lips with the tip of his cock.

                “This what you want?” Ian asked, admiring the sight of the tied up man nodding eagerly and opening his mouth. Ian quickly gripped Mickey’s hair tight, tilting his head back before he could get Ian’s dick past his lips.

                “What do we say?” Ian prompted. Mickey bit his lower lip in anticipation and smirked up at Ian very unsubmissively. That’s what Ian loved about Mickey; even when he was being dominated, he wasn’t really submissive.

                “Please?”

                “Please, what?”

                Mickey corrected himself quickly. “Please, sir.”

                “Good little slut,” Ian praised, earning a lascivious grin from Mickey. Ian released Mickey’s hair and guided his mouth back to his cock. Mickey swallowed him down, moaning appreciatively around his member and doing everything he could to pleasure Ian. Ian just leaned back and let Mickey do all the work, which Mickey was more than happy to do. He loved that he was the reason for Ian’s ragged breaths and moans. He used the techniques Ian had taught him the other day until the tight heat of his throat, vibrating because of his moans, had successfully turned Ian into a hair-pulling, hip-jerking mess. Ian stopped him too soon though, and Mickey frowned as Ian pulled out of his mouth.

                “Come here,” Ian ordered breathlessly. Mickey was guided up from the floor to sit in Ian’s lap on the couch. Mickey was positioned so he was facing Ian, who sat cross-legged, and his legs were locked around Ian’s waist. Ian fished around the cushions until he found the last tie he’d set out for his and Mickey’s day. He tied it tightly around Mickey’s ankles behind his back, and let out a satisfied sigh.

                “There we are. Now you won’t be able to get away so easily.” Ian hummed and wrapped his arm around Mickey’s waist, lifting him just enough to tease his hole with Ian’s saliva-slicked cock. At hearing the idea of trying to get away, Mickey’s interest was piqued and his dick twitched at the thought.

                “Why would I wanna get away?” He wondered aloud.

                “Oh, no reason.” Mickey could hear Ian’s shit-eating grin in his tone. “Just, it can be a bit much. Especially the first time.”

                “What—“ Mickey was cut off by his own surprised moan as Ian lowered Mickey down until he was sitting in his lap again only this time with Ian’s cock filling him up. It felt amazing, just having Ian completely still inside of Mickey save for the pulsing of his cock against Mickey’s tight walls. The tip of Ian’s cock was situated right against Mickey’s prostate but since he wasn’t moving, the pleasure was minimal. Ian instructed Mickey to relax and take deep breaths, which he did, until he felt completely relaxed, albeit still turned on beyond belief.

                “That all you got?” Mickey challenged teasingly with a little smirk. Ian grabbed a hold of Mickey’s hair again, pulling him down roughly until his lips were up against Mickey’s ear.

                “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he growled. Mickey’s breath got caught in his throat momentarily and he swore he could have come right that second. However, as one of the rules, Mickey wasn’t allowed to come unless Ian told him to. He wasn’t supposed to ask for permission either, or beg. He was entirely at Ian’s mercy and there was no better feeling in the world. Ian loosened his grip on Mickey’s hair and pulled him into a tender kiss, quite unlike the previously rough treatment. _Okay_ , Mickey thought absently. _No better feeling in the world than being at Ian’s mercy while kissing him_. Mickey was really getting into the kiss too, when he felt Ian sliding a soft, tight rubber sleeve over his cock, the kind that was open at both ends. He didn’t think much about it at first; he simply figured Ian was going to jack him off with it while he fucked him. But fuck, Mickey had no idea.

                The sensation hit Mickey only milliseconds before the sound did. Electricity jolted through every nerve in his body and Mickey found himself squirming desperately. The vibrating sounds were loud, but Mickey was much louder.

                “Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck is that!?” Mickey tried to squirm away from Ian despite the fact that his ankles were tied tightly behind the redhead’s back.

                “Some fucking genius invented an attachment to the Hitachi magic wand. The vibrations on the highest setting are _twice_ as intense, and it wraps around your whole dick since it’s a sleeve.” Ian went through his explanation as if Mickey was actually listening, but the moaning mess of a man could barely focus. Ian was sliding the vibrating sleeve up and down Mickey’s leaking cock and Mickey was squirming so much to get away from the intensity of the pleasure that he was inadvertently rocking so that Ian’s cock kept rubbing against his prostate. Mickey was never loud before Ian. But now, being subjected to Ian’s torture, he couldn’t stop whimpering and writhing around. Just when Mickey thought it couldn’t get any worse, his vision behind the blindfold actually went _white_ as a second, smaller device began to vibrate vigorously right against the most sensitive part of his cock; his frenulum. Mickey shouted and moaned unintelligible pleas and praises as his limbs struggled to be freed from their restraints. He’d never been in such intense pleasure his whole life and now Ian was fucking up into him, pinpointing his prostate and making sure to hit it with every thrust.

                In short, Mickey Milkovich was fucking wrecked.

                Thankfully, Ian could tell Mickey wasn’t going to last much longer because he turned up the wand to it’s highest setting and thrust up into Mickey harder.

                “You can come, come for me my good little slut,” Ian growled lowly into Mickey’s ear, who finally lost it and climaxed harder than he ever had before, thick ropes of come shooting out over Ian’s chest. Mickey was pretty sure he blacked out for a few seconds because when he came to, the sleeve was still around his dick and he was so oversensitive that Ian finally achieved his original goal; Mickey was screaming his name. The post-orgasm torture was really too much for him.

                “Stop! Please, please fucking stop!” Mickey begged. Not because he actually wanted Ian to stop, but because he knew Ian loved it. It was very much real torture, but it wasn’t quite safeword territory. It was torture that Mickey could go through again and again because he knew Ian loved seeing him look so wrecked and maybe, in the back of his mind, Mickey liked to be tortured like this. He wanted it.

                “You forgot to thank me.”

                “Thank you! Thank you, sir, sir thank you, thank you, thank you!” Mickey remembered the third rule (he must have forgotten about it when he was borderline unconscious for those few seconds) and immediately tried to fix his mistake but it was no use.

                “Too late now.” Ian hummed nonchalantly as if there wasn’t a man begging and screaming for mercy in his lap. The only reprieve Ian granted was turning off the vibrator that massaged Mickey’s frenulum. “Maybe next time I let you come, you’ll remember to thank me.” Mickey’s eyes went wide behind the blindfold. Ian intended to keep this up until Mickey could come again, and Mickey wasn’t so sure he could. At least not for another ten minutes.

                Ian grabbed Mickey’s waist and made him hang off the edge of the couch. He jerked Mickey with the sleeve faster and began fucking into him. Mickey had just realized that Ian didn’t come with him and, judging by the arrhythmic rutting of his hips, Ian was getting close. Ian seemed to understand that Mickey was going to have a hard time coming again so he upped the stakes. He began polishing the head of Mickey’s cock vigorously with the palm of his hand. Mickey’s whole body was reacting now. He had no control of the full-body orgasm that had him shaking and thrashing and crying out Ian’s name until he found it within himself to come one more time. Due to Ian making him hang over the edge of the couch, Mickey managed to coat his chest and some of his face in his own come. His thrashing paid off too little too late because it wasn’t until after he came down from the high of his climax that the restraints around his ankles loosened enough for his legs to slip out of them, thus making him fall to the floor in front of the couch. Ian was undeterred by this since he already was so close to his orgasm. He quickly dropped to the floor straddled Mickey’s chest. Mickey was dazed, but thanks to the fact that Ian had abandoned the use of the magic wand he managed to remember the rule.

                “Th-thank you, thank you so fucking much sir, thank you,” Mickey slurred and panted. Ian was quick to pull the blindfold off of Mickey, and moaned at the euphoric look in his sub’s eyes. His pupils were blown, but Ian could still see a thick ring of intense blue. Mickey wasn’t looking directly at him, and he intended to change that. He cupped Mickey’s flushed cheek and wet his bite-swollen lips.

                “Such a good slut, all covered in your own come. But I told you the other day, yeah? That I wanted to see those beautiful blue eyes while I come on this pretty face?” Ian prompted. Slowly, the hazy-eyed man looked up into Ian’s eyes and parted his lips with a hopeful look. It didn’t take Ian more than a second after that to hit the edge. He moaned breathlessly as he gave Mickey every drop of come he had, coating the brunet’s cheeks and lips. Some overshot and got into Mickey’s hair, but neither man seemed to care. Mickey wanted to flick his tongue out and lick Ian’s come from his lips, but he was too spent to even think. Ian leaned down to kiss Mickey deeply, licking come from each other’s lips and nipping playfully at each other.

                Finally, Ian rolled Mickey onto his side and untied the knot that kept his wrists restrained behind him, then allowed Mickey to roll over lazily onto his stomach while he groaned. Ian chuckled fondly and laid across Mickey’s back, kissing gently along his shoulder blades.

                “What’s the matter?”

                “I’m done,” Mickey breathed heavily, allowing his cheek to smoosh against the carpet as his body remained limp. “Done for the day, done for the year, done for-fucking-ever.”

                “I take it you had a good time?”

                “Best fucking time ever.” Mickey laughed breathlessly and shrugged Ian off of him, rolling onto his back. Ian grinned like a big fucking idiot, and it was over. The past forty minutes had all been an act between Ian and Mickey. Ian was back to being a stupid little puppy, and Mickey was back to being a hardcore thug (save for the come that still decorated his face.) What they liked to do to each other in bed meant nothing now; and that’s how Mickey liked it.

                “You wanna take a shower?” Ian asked, still catching his breath and, just like the other day, still looking at Mickey like he was looking at the northern lights on ecstasy. Mickey had to look away.

                “Yeah, if you can carry me there,” Mickey joked. Ian smiled and sat up.

                “Bath then.” After helping Mickey off the floor, Ian guided the wobbly-legged man into the bathroom and started a hot bath. He wiped Mickey’s face and chest clean with some toilet paper, then wiped his own chest clean.

                “So what do you think?” Ian questioned once they’d gotten settled in the bath, with Mickey leaning back against Ian’s chest.

                “Think about what?”

                “A job. Working for me.” Ian hummed absently as he began to rub shampoo into the exhausted man’s hair. “It’d give us an excuse to have to see each other.”

                Mickey stayed quiet for a while. Ian was starting to think he’d actually fallen asleep when Mickey said, “What’d I be doin’?”

                “Hm… personal assistant?” Ian sounded a little too pleased at the idea.

                “Fuck off. Ain’t that Svetlana’s job?”      

                “She’s the receptionist, she makes meetings, takes calls, runs the front desk. As a personal assistant, you’d be with me all the time. And it wouldn’t seem that odd if I had to call you in after hours for, say, an emergency.” Ian smirked and took Mickey’s hand, placing it over his semi-hard dick under the water. Mickey laughed and shook his head incredulously.

                “Yeah right, an emergency,” he scoffed.

                “Plus, I pay really well. Good money, good sex, what more could you want out of a job?”

                “So basically, you’re gonna pay me to be your personal fuck slave.”

                “Bingo.” They laughed and Mickey closed his eyes as Ian grabbed the shower head to rinse the shampoo out of Mickey’s hair.

                “Can I have my own desk?”

                “Why would you need a desk? You’ll spend most of your time under mine anyway.” Ian teased. Mickey chuckled and finally shrugged.

                “Sure. Why not.”

                “So I can expect you at my office on Monday morning?” Mickey only grunted noncommittally. When they finished up in the bath, they crawled into bed and turned on the TV. Ian found that Mickey could be quite accommodating, when he was sleepy enough. He even allowed Ian to have his arm around his shoulders, playing idly with his dark, messy hair. It wasn’t until their third episode of SVU’s “Before They Were Stars” marathon that Mickey had fallen asleep. One arm had draped itself over Ian’s middle, and Ian found himself stroking the dozing man’s tattooed knuckles. Everything had been perfect. Until his phone chimed from the bedside table. Ian leaned over and grabbed his phone, unlocking it to see who had messaged him.

 **[Leila]** 1:22 PM: are you going to tell him?

                Ian wasn’t quite ready for his otherwise perfect day to be ruined just yet, so he switched off his phone and wrapped his arm around Mickey, and watched thoughtfully as Robin Williams pretended to torture Mariska Hargitay.


	6. All Work And No Play Makes Mickey A Dull Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where do I sit? What do I do?” Mickey regretted the questions as soon as they left his lips, because Ian simply put his feet back on the floor and patted the empty space on his desk.
> 
> “Just sit here, and look pretty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update anything I'm absolute trash. I've been swamped with writer's block and really bad depression and school and family shit. Slowly but surely, I'm getting back into the habit of writing again. And I'm sorry this chapter's so short, the next one will be pretty short as well but after that the length of chapters will probably increase by a lot... Anyway thank you to anyone who actually stuck through this long, ily guys <3

                “Wow.” Ian let out an appreciative wolf whistle at the sight of his new employee. “You clean up good, Mick.”

                “Shut up,” Mickey groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could already tell that working for Ian was going to be a headache. Even though, technically speaking, he was more like a sex servant.

                “Svetlana made me look like this.” Neither man could deny, Svetlana had impeccable taste. The evening after Mickey told her he’d be working at the office, she came home with an entirely new wardrobe. He whined about it endlessly, though he’d never admit that he loved the way the pants made his ass look, especially with the fitting pinstripe shirt and the waistcoat. And if there was any sort of requirements for this particular job, Mickey figured looking good had to be it.

                “I’ll have to thank her then.” Ian stepped closer, relishing in the way Mickey squirmed just that little bit as he adjusted the brunette’s tie.

                “Jeez, don’t you know how to tie a tie?”

                “I look like I got a lot of experience in fancy dress? And you ain’t thankin’ her, she can’t know about this.”

                “Relax,” Ian rolled his eyes and gripped Mickey’s tie, pulling him so their lips were nearly touching. “You know your secrets are safe with me.”

                “Better be…” Mickey failed to sound assertive and ended up letting his eyes drop to Ian’s lips. For a moment, he thought Ian was going to close the impossibly small gap between them and just kiss him. But alas, Ian let go of his employee’s tie and stepped back until he was sitting in his chair once more. He propped his legs up on the desk.

                “So?” Mickey prompted.

                “So what?”

                “Where do I sit? What do I do?” Mickey regretted the questions as soon as they left his lips, because Ian simply put his feet back on the floor and patted the empty space on his desk.

                “Just sit here, and look pretty.”

                “You’re kidding right? I’m not gonna sit on your desk like some cheap, desperate secretary trying to bone her boss.”

                “You’ve been watching way too much of The Nanny,” Ian laughed. “Well, your desk isn’t going to be here until tomorrow afternoon. So you can either sit on the desk, or under it.”

                “A tempting offer, but I think blowjobs are best after we’ve all had our morning coffee.” Mickey sighed tiredly, and walked over to the little table behind Ian’s desk where he kept his own coffee machine.

                “You obviously don’t remember the cruise then.” Ian got up to help Mickey work the coffee machine, a smirk firmly planted on his face. Mickey couldn’t help but smile.

                “You just might have to remind me.”

                “Aw,” Ian pouted, resting a hand on Mickey’s hip. “I thought I gave a _very_ memorable performance.” He pressed his thumb into Mickey’s hipbone which made the brunet cry out. He grinned at that, and handed Mickey his coffee.

                “You still have bruises.”

                “Bumped my hip on a desk last night,” Mickey sneered at Ian, swilling down half his coffee before setting it on the desk. Before he could actually sit down, Mickey was pushed harshly against the desk and bent over. He felt the wooden edges digging into his hipbones, and groaned.

                “Yeah?” Ian leaned over, pulling back the collar of Mickey’s shirt and chuckling. “You hit your neck on the desk too? ‘Cause it’s littered with bruises.”

                Mickey huffed out a laugh, feeling Ian’s hard-on through his pants against his ass. “Yeah, it was a bad fall. Tragic, really. It left bruises all over.”

                “Aw, poor baby.” Ian kissed the back of Mickey’s neck so lightly, it caused him to shiver enough that the coffee trembled within its cup beside them.

                “Hey, I said after my coffee.”

                “You’re no fun.” Ian frowned dramatically and let Mickey up. Mickey hadn’t even finished his coffee when Ian dropped a stack of letters and loose papers in front of him.

                “The fuck is this?” Mickey asked, downing the last of his coffee and setting the cup to the side.

                “You really thought you were here just for sex? Oh come on Mickey, I’m a lot of things, but unprofessional is not one of them.”

                “Right.” Mickey pursed his lips. He wasn’t even prepared to count the number of ways that Ian had been unprofessional since the moment they met, so he just let the subject drop.

                “So what’s all this?”

                “Letters. See, my mailbox is the same as the company mailbox, so everything’s just kind of jumbled together. There’s also notes for appointments, due dates, stuff like that. I need you to sort all the mail, and make a schedule for all those dates I wrote down.” Ian was all business in a snap, and Mickey was more than a little confused. He sat on the empty space on Ian’s desk, and glared at his new boss as he sat back down in his chair.

                “Are you fucking kidding me? Your handwriting is worse than a doctor’s.”

                “Is that so?” Ian raised his eyebrows and checked his watch. “Well, it’s 8:23 now. If you intend to have any fun before you go home, you better finish all that before 5 o’clock.”

                “You are such a dick.”

                “Could’a been _sucking_ my dick already, but you had to have your coffee,” Ian teased. Mickey made a mental note to himself; get properly caffeinated before work. He let out a defeated sigh and got to work.

                Lunch came faster than Mickey had expected it to. He was determined to get through everything before work was over, but decoding Ian’s handwriting was a mission in and of itself. He only finished half the schedule by the time Ian asked him what he wanted for lunch. Mickey told him to get whatever he wanted; he could eat practically anything. Soon, some young twink was delivering food right to Ian’s office door. He gave the kid a nice tip, and watched a little too long as he walked away. Mickey scoffed, but kept his thoughts to himself. Ian shut the door and locked it. Mickey was a little excited, thinking maybe Ian locked the door so they could fool around but as it turned out, Ian always locked the door when he ate lunch.

                “You sure got a lot of doctor’s appointments,” Mickey commented, his mouth full of a Panera panini.

                “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Ian smacked Mickey’s leg. He shrugged, sipping at his water bottle. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

                “Why’s that?” Mickey ignored Ian’s previous comment, focusing instead on decoding the next set of dates.

                “I just do. Wanna stay healthy, and all that.” Mickey wasn’t buying it, but he let the subject go for the time being. Mostly because he realized he barely made a dent in the stack of papers. They finished their lunch in silence, and the minute Ian unlocked the door to his office, the blonde that Mickey recognized from the cruise was knocking at his door. If she was trying to hide the fact that she’d just gotten laid on her lunch break, she was doing a horrible job at it.

                “Hey, Elle? If you’re going to do something lewd in the office, _at least_ clean up after.” Ian sighed.

                Mickey choked on his last bite of panini, laughing at how red the poor girl’s fair cheeks became. When she heard his sputtering laughter, she whipped her head in his direction to glare at him, but only formed a small “o” shape with her lips and looked back at Ian.

                “I wasn’t aware your assistant was starting today, Mr. Gallagher.” She turned to Mickey with a tight smile. “Hi, you can call me Elle. I’m the head of our legal department.”

                “Mickey,” He nodded to her. “Sorry for laughing, it’s just… You lost something.” He pointed to her left leg, which was bare. Her right leg was covered with a sheer black stocking. Ian burst out into cackling laughter when he saw it, apparently having just noticed it.

                “Oh, shit!”

                “Go find your clothes, and then come tell me whatever you wanted to see me about.” Ian covered his mouth to keep from laughing anymore, and Ellie rolled her eyes.

                “I just came to give you today’s mail.” She handed Ian a stack of letters, and Ian turned to grin at Mickey.

                “Oh, Mickey, look what I got for you!” Ian shut the door as Ellie hobbled away to find her other stocking, and dropped the letters into a crestfallen Mickey’s lap.

                “I hate this job,” Mickey groaned.

                “That better not be complaining I hear.”

                “No sir, definitely not.” Mickey rolled his eyes, and continued to work on his stack of papers.

                When the cursed hour came, Mickey was nowhere near done with his work. He finished with the schedule, but he still had to sort through Ian’s mail. Ian wordlessly stood and began sorting a few papers on his desk that he needed to take home. Mickey was sorting like a madman though he knew it was useless. There was no way he was going to finish an almost foot tall stack in the thirty seconds it would take for Ian to be out the door. In fact by the time Mickey looked up to complain, Ian was already stepping over the threshold with his beautiful new schedule in his hand. Mickey had half a mind to throw the fucking stack of mail to the floor but he knew that would just make things harder. He hadn’t known Ian long, but one thing was sure. He loved to tease. Mickey gave in, letting out a long sigh and gathering up the letters to bring them home. He would finish sorting them tonight, and hopefully get some real action tomorrow.

                Just as Mickey was heading out the door, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, and grinned wickedly at his recent text.

                  **[** **Gallagher]** **1:38 AM** **:** Copy room. Now.

~

                By the time Ian and Mickey were done, there was no way they could walk out of the copy room with anyone knowing something went down. The room reeked of sex and their appearances were rough and disheveled. It was a small room with space only for two prehistoric copy machines and two or three people. Mickey panted softly as he sat on the counter next to one of the copy machines, his pants hanging off one ankle as Ian was still pushed deep inside of him. They came down from their intense orgasms together and Mickey laid his head back against the wall. His gaze fell to the crack between the counter and the copier next to him, and what he saw made him laugh a little harder than he wanted to.

                “I guess we’re not the only ones using the copy room,” Mickey said, nodding his head to a single black stocking that lay lost in the cracks of the copy room. Ian laughed heartily when he saw it. He slowly pulled out of Mickey and bent over to pick it up.

                “We’ll just leave it here on the counter. When she sees it tomorrow, she can get it back and think about what she’s done.” Ian chuckled, shaking his head as he set it down. He watched with a smile as Mickey cleaned himself up with some nearby tissues and fixed his clothing.

                “You are going to sort those letters still, right?” Ian asked, like he was scared Mickey was suddenly going to quit.

                “Sure, if you need ‘em so bad. I’ll finish them up tonight.”

                “I do. Thanks so much,” Ian grinned and leaned in, giving Mickey a kiss that wasn’t sexy and heated like their other kisses. It was too sweet for Mickey’s taste, and he shot Ian an odd glance as the redhead pulled away. He was acting like it wasn’t Mickey’s job –  like he was asking a boyfriend for a favor.

                “Yeah. Anyway, I gotta get to the car before Svetlana rips my head off.” Mickey turned to leave after fussing with his hair a bit, but was stopped by Ian grabbing his wrist.

                “Don’t forget the mail. Please?”

                Mickey bit down on his tongue to keep from blurting out something about Ian’s clinginess, but he knew he would get farther with sweetness.

                “I won’t. Promise.” He leaned up on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to Ian’s temple, then gathered up his things and left the copy room. There were very few people around though it was only 5:15. He spotted Svetlana still sitting at the reception desk with Ellie sitting on the edge, the two girls laughing it up without a care in the world. Mickey wanted to gag at how sweet they were together. He never had a friend like that, and he doubted he ever would.

                “You ready to go?”

                “You’re the one who took too long,” Svetlana threw her purse into Mickey’s chest as she picked up the rest of her things. Mickey laughed dryly at her aggression but he didn’t mind carrying her purse for her. Honestly, he thought nothing made a guy look like more of a pussy than when they refused to carry their partner’s things for them. Especially purses, considering that being with a woman made it fairly obvious to whom the bag belonged. His fiancée kissed Ellie’s cheek and waved a goodbye. As they walked out, Mickey couldn’t help but call out over his shoulder.

                “’Ey, blondie. You left something in the copy room.”


End file.
